Soul Deep: Dark Souls, Book 2 Read Free Page A

her. Now that his parents were gone, he was all alone in the world. What would become of the child?
    Careful not to wake him, she smoothed down the wild locks of his hair. The uneven tufts felt soft and rough at the same time, like coarse silk. He looked so tiny, so harmless, it was hard to imagine him causing the kind of damage she’d witnessed in that kitchen today.
    But he had. He’d admitted as much himself.
    He turned sideways in the makeshift bed, an old cot she’d set up in her stark, no-nonsense room. Hardly a room that would appeal to a child. For the first time, she regretted the lack of decor, the lack of warmth or personal detail. The only thing that added a splash of color to the place was the forest green chenille throw she’d draped over his thin body. His small hands fisted around the blanket, drawing it against his chest the way he would a shield. Emotion pooled in her throat, and she swallowed to wash it away. She’d always had the ability to feel, but never with such vivid intensity. Something had changed in her today. The part of her that had once been human had come alive again.
    All because of this lost little boy.
    “If you’re not careful, you’re going to give yourself away.”
    Marcus’s voice startled her, and her gaze shot to the door, where he stood leaning against the doorjamb. Black jeans hugged his long, sinewy legs, and a dark T-shirt stretched over his wide, muscular chest. An uneasy sensation blossomed in her chest, and she looked away. Her partner painted a compelling picture. The kind of picture that could make a woman forget who she was and all the promises she’d made.
    But most unsettling of all was the glint of shrewd intelligence she always caught in his eyes. Marcus had a way of looking at her that made her feel vulnerable and entirely exposed.
    “I have no idea what you mean,” she lied.
    “You’ve been wearing your heart on your sleeve all afternoon. If you keep it up, the others will notice and start wondering if you’re feeding on the sly.”
    The most common way for their kind to experience deep, unadulterated emotion was to ingest a human soul, something the Watchers were loath to do. That was the very thing that set them apart from their enemies—the Kleptopsychs and the Rogues—who had no such qualms.
    Regan resented the accusation. “That’s a load of bull, and you know it. I’ve never taken a soul. Ever.” Her link to her lost soul was strong, always had been, especially after she’d taken the blood vow. As long as that soul remained in circulation, free to be reborn, she could fight the dark urges that perpetually plagued her kind.
    She met Marcus’s penetrating stare in blatant challenge. “Can you say the same?”
    “We’re not talking about me.” Swaggering into the room with an arrogant confidence that annoyed the hell out of her, he dragged a chair next to the bed and folded his tall, lean body into it. “What’s going on with you, Regan? I’ve always suspected that you feel a little more than the rest of us, but you’re usually pretty good at hiding it. Lately, though, you’ve grown careless. First there was that whole business with you training Jace behind Cal’s back, and now this.”
    She closed her eyes, released a tremulous sigh. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
    “I can’t.” Concern swam in his dark blue gaze.
    “Why? Why do you care?”
    He reached out and clasped a strand of her hair, rubbing it between rough fingers. “Because we’ve been partners for over thirty years and I’d hate to see your pretty little head end up on the chopping block.” Briefly, his eyes fell to her mouth, and her stomach clamped in painful response. “That would be a terrible, terrible waste.”
    She swallowed her discomfort and fought to ease her galloping pulse, certain he could hear it. “Yeah, you’d have no one to boss around anymore.”
    The crooked smile he gave her made her forget how aggravating he was. “I do